


Safety Net

by tobiyos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Persona Rarepair Week, Sexual Content, Single Parents, its supposed to be cute, like its all fluff, maruki is akira and goro's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: “Whatever,” Iwai says on a pout. He glances up at Takuto’s face again. “The kids keeping you up?”Takuto drags his bottom lip between his teeth and glances off behind Iwai’s head. “Not… really? They’re just kids, y’know? But sometimes I wonder if I’m doing things right and… I get worried.”“Hey,” Iwai says gently, and the tone of his voice gets Takuto to look down again. He squeezes Takuto’s hand. “Let me make you dinner tonight. Just you and me.”--Takuto has a flower shop, two kids, and a boyfriend. He's busy, to say the least.
Relationships: Iwai Munehisa/Maruki Takuto
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	Safety Net

**Author's Note:**

> *taps mic* are we still doing rarepair week, guys?
> 
> One of the prompts was "childhood" and uhh I kinda wrote a childhood friends au like... two weeks ago so I wanted to switch it up! I also really love Maruki/Iwai and y'know Iwai's a dad so.... kid fic! 
> 
> Persona Rarepair Week day 3: Childhood

Takuto is so fucking tired.

He’s exhausted, capital E, practically slumping over into the hydrangeas on the counter as he waits for somebody to walk through the door. It’s been a slow day (slow week (slow month)) so he’s hardly surprised when the one thing that would force him to actually open his eyes doesn’t happen. He glances at the counter and drops his head down with a _thunk_.

And you know what? Having kids has made him a light sleeper. He’s sure if he takes a _quick_ nap, if anyone comes in he’ll be up in seconds. He’s just gonna rest his eyes.

Yeah. He can lay down for a little bit…

Someone pokes his face.

“Maruki? Maruki, sir.”

With the least graceful snort known to humankind, Maruki blinks his eyes open and peers up at big brown eyes. “Yes!” he says, sitting up too fast. “What’s the matter, Haru?”

She blinks at him, hands folded in front of her. “Oh, it’s just that we’re getting close to closing and, um, the phone has been ringing for a while now. I can’t really reach it with you in the way.”

Huh. Takuto glances back at where the little red landline is plugged into the wall near the register, and realizes that it Haru is right, and the phone is trilling quietly. “S-sorry,” he stammers out, moving back so that he can reach over and grab the phone. “Hi, Will Seedlings and Flowers, where your floral dream is our reality,” he sighs. “Takuto speaking.”

“ _Hey, doll face_ ,” comes the voice at the other end, gruff and familiar. “ _What crawled up your ass?”_

Takuto huffs a laugh. “Don’t get me started, Iwai,” he sighs, nodding at Haru to let her know he’s got it. “What’s up?”

“ _Your little brats are taking over my parlor,”_ Iwai growls, before there’s a noise and a distant _Hey! Put that down._ “ _I know you’re closing up soon. Figured I should probably let you know where the kids are.”_

“Thank you,” Takuto says, reaching out to adjust a stack of bright yellow sticky notes. “They’re not causing too much trouble, are they?”

Iwai laughs. “ _Nah, Akira’s a little angel like always. Goro though…_ ” There’s another crash, and another growl from Iwai. “ _Speak of the devil_ ,” Iwai growls into the phone. “ _One sec. Hey!”_

Takuto sighs as he listens to the sound of Iwai probably scooping Goro out of somewhere he doesn’t belong. He never _actively_ regrets agreeing to take Goro in—lord knows his old college roommate was a shithead who didn’t need to fuck up some kid the way he fucked up himself—but Shido’s temperament is more present in Goro than Takuto really thought it’d be. He’s lucky he’s got Akira around to balance him out… when he’s not egging Goro on.

“ _Sorry,_ ” Iwai says, coming back towards the phone. “ _Don’t know how many times I gotta tell that kid that the ink is_ not _for doodling._ ”

Takuto snorts. “Good luck with that.” He taps a pen against the desk and pushes a hand through his curls. “I can come grab them in about… ten minutes? I’m going to help Haru close up for the night.”

“ _Sounds good, sweetheart,_ ” Iwai says, rough timbre of his voice making Takuto’s stomach do somersaults. “ _Looking forward to it._ ” Iwai doesn’t even give him the decency of time to respond before the line clicks dead, and Takuto sets it back down.

“Haru?” he calls, peeking around a bouquet to where his part timer is sitting on the floor, knees drawn up under her as she waters some seedlings.

“Hm?” she asks, looking up.

“Is the employee room clean?”

“Oh! Yes,” she says happily, setting down the spray bottle. “I cleaned it while I was on my lunch break since it’s a Friday. I know how you are about getting Goro and Akira home quickly.”

God, Haru is so nice he could cry. He’s lucky she’s not up for adoption too. “Thank you,” he sighs. “Make sure you grab your things—I’m going to count up at the register and then I’ll let you go for the night.” He watches Haru nod and rock to her feet, and he sets about getting things settled down for the evening, so he can go home and maybe get his boys to settle in for long enough that he can get a nap. An hour. That’s all he needs.

“Have a good weekend!” Haru calls, taking off down the street with a small bag slung over her shoulder.

Takuto turns and takes about four steps, before he pushes past the entrance of the tattoo parlor next door.

“Hi, Maruki,” Yusuke greets, when Takuto steps through the door. He’s got his long hair pulled back today, the edge of a stark black wing peeking out over his neck from the low neckline of his shirt. “Iwai is in the back room with a customer right now, but I don’t think they’ll mind you coming in.”

“Thanks,” Takuto says, moving past the receptionist desk with a smile. “Nice shirt,” he compliments.

Yusuke glances down at the fabric, and then back up with the same expression. “It is my partner’s,” he offers, and Takuto tries his best for a smile.

He pushes through the little curtain separating the long line of chairs set up near a wall full of mirrors, catching sight of Iwai as he crouches on one of the stools, arms rested on his knees.

“— _don’t_ pick at it, or go swimming—”

“I’ve heard the rundown before, Mune,” the woman in the chair says, reaching up to pick almost idly at the ink filled covering on her arm. “I’ve got it.”

Iwai’s face looks unimpressed. “Quit pickin’ at it, Takemi.”

Takemi rolls her eyes and glances up as Takuto moves towards her, face breaking into a wry grin. “Doctor,” she says, with a head tilt.

“Doctor,” Takuto says, with his own smile back.

Iwai glances up and him and though his face doesn’t change, it softens out gently, eyes bright. He looks back at Takemi. “Yusuke’s got you out front.”

Takemi stands from her chair and sweeps past Takuto with a squeeze to his shoulder, the arm freshly tattooed hanging loose at her side.

Takuto smiles down at Iwai. “Hi,” he says.

“Hey,” Iwai grunts, extending his hand out for Takuto to take. No sooner does Takuto grab it does Iwai pull him between his legs, lacing their fingers together so he can kiss at Takuto’s knuckles. “You look like shit,” he says affectionately into Takuto’s palm.

Takuto laughs. “Thank you? I’m not quite sure what to do with that.”

“Hm,” Iwai says against his hand. He glances up. “What’s got you down, dollface?”

Takuto takes a very deep breath. His relationship with Iwai is… complicated. Well, as complicated as dating can be when you’re in your thirties and attempting to raise two boys on your own. He and Iwai aren’t _not_ dating, but he doesn’t want to just unload on him like this when the thing they have feels a bit fragile, if wholly supportive. “Oh, things here and there. Wedding season, mostly, seeing as we either have a hundred orders a day or two. It’s very draining.”

“I can imagine,” Iwai says, reaching up to wrap the hand that’s not in Takuto’s around his hips, pulling him closer until Iwai can press his nose into Takuto’s stomach. “Buisness has been slow over here too.”

Takuto reaches down and cards his fingers through Iwai’s hair, smiling when Iwai’s low, pleased noise vibrates against his stomach. “You’re not going to have to let Yusuke go, right?”

Iwai snorts. “As if. I’m stuck with that little weirdo until he gets his license. Or until that kid’s boyfriend manages to kill them on that little motorcycle of his.”

Takuto winces. “A motorcycle? That’s not very safe.”

Iwai growls. “Told the both of them that. Little blond asshole just shrugged. I got half a mind to turn him down the next time he comes in here to get one of Yusuke’s designs inked.”

Takuto huffs a laugh. “No you don’t, you softie.”

“Whatever,” Iwai pouts. He glances up at Takuto’s face again. “The kids keeping you up?”

Takuto drags his bottom lip between his teeth and glances off behind Iwai’s head. “Not… really? They’re just kids, y’know? But sometimes I wonder if I’m doing things right and… I get worried.”

“Hey,” Iwai says gently, and the tone of his voice gets Takuto to look down again. He squeezes Takuto’s hand. “Let me make you dinner tonight. Just you and me.”

Takuto raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking me on a date, Munehisa?”

“Obviously,” Iwai says, with a roll of his eyes. “Come on, you need the time off, and Yusuke’s watching Kaoru for the night.”

Takuto bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know. Akira and Goro don’t do well with sitters. Trust me,” he sighs, when Iwai looks partially disbelieving. “I’ve tried.”

“There’s a little girl that lives at my complex who’s always looking to pick up spare sitting jobs. She’s real sweet.” He presses a kiss to Takuto’s stomach through his shirt, and Takuto sighs. “Take a break.”

“I’ll… see. Give me her number, I’ll see if she can take the boys tonight. And if they _like_ her. Goro is very vocal about people he can’t stand.”

“I’m aware,” Iwai says with a snort. “He called one of my customers ‘ _pighead’_ the other week.”

Takuto gasps. “Wh-where did he even learn that? And why didn’t you _tell_ me?” He wipes a hand over his face. “It’s like I didn’t teach that boy any manners.”

Iwai wrinkles his nose instead of laughing. “Go on,” he says, leaning away with a pat to Takuto’s hip. “Take your kids home and text me before you come over. I’ll be out of here by six, tops.”

“All right,” Takuto says, leaning down to kiss Iwai on his head.

He picks his way through the shop to the back room, opening the door to a huddle of small children in the middle of the break room floor.

“Hi, boys,” Takuto says, leaning over where Akira, Goro, and Kaoru are ducked over a long sheet of white paper, covered in pen sketches.

Akira blinks up at him from behind his too big glasses, before his face breaks into a big grin. “Hi, dad!” He says, pushing himself to his feet so he can turn around and hug Takuto’s leg. Takuto pats him on the back and smiles down at Goro, who frowns and turns pink.

“I didn’t miss you, by the way,” he says, standing up to tug on Takuto’s hand. Takuto knows that this is Goro’s way of saying _I did actually miss you very much_.

“That’s great, Goro,” Takuto says, leaning down to pat him on the head. “You’re almost like a grown up.” Goro puffs up under the praise.

“Hi, Kaoru,” Takuto says, to the little boy still sitting on the floor, gripping a grey pen between his fingers.

“Hi,” Kaoru says shyly, glancing down at the piece of paper. “Is it time for Goro and Akira to go home?”

“Sorry,” Takuto says, with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “They’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

Kaoru glances down at the little paper and nods.

“Say goodbye,” Takuto urges gently, a hand on Goro and Akira’s back.

“Bye, Kaoru-chan,” Akira says gently.

“Goodbye, Kaoru!” Goro near shouts.

Takuto sweeps them both up into his arms, smiling as Akira giggles and wraps his arms around his neck. “Did you two have fun?” he asks, nodding at Yusuke as he moves past the reception desk again.

“Maybe!” Goro declares, while Akira nods into Takuto’s neck.

Takuto smiles. “That’s good. Let’s get you two home, huh?”

\--

Akira and Goro have a kind of routine when they get home that Takuto is near blissfully excluded from.

They let go of his hands and grab each other’s instead, racing off towards their bedroom to throw their supplies from school messily onto their beds, and then dart back out into the living room to set up in front of the TV until they get bored.

Takuto sits on the couch and turns on his phone, glancing at the notifications from Iwai.

 _Iwai_ : Yoshizawa’s Number—

 _Iwai:_ I’m making Udon. I know you love Udon. Do not let Goro puppy dog eye you into giving up my Udon.

Takuto frowns and sends back, _I do not let Goro ‘puppy dog eye’ me_ before he taps on Yoshizawa’s number and sends a very straightforward, albeit polite message.

She responds almost immediately, professionally letting him know how she charges and the fact that she’s free for the night and doesn’t need rides to and from the apartment since her sister has a car. She’s rather inexpensive, he realizes happily, asking her if she’s able to watch both of his kids for a few hours tonight. He’ll pay if he’s late, he assures.

He clears his throat. “Goro, Akira?” he says gently, and flinches when both of them shush him roughly. “Um, I kind of need to talk to you.”

“Can it wait until _Phoenix Ranger Featherman R_ is over?” Akira askes politely.

Takuto sighs. “Sure.” Iwai was half correct before. He doesn’t let Goro puppy dog eye him into doing what he wants—Akira wants to make Goro happy and is always too sweet for Takuto to turn him down. Takuto runs a hand over his face. This was so much easier when they were too young to talk.

Once the episode ends, Goro and Akira crawl up onto the couch, tucking into Takuto’s side. “How do you guys feel about hanging out with a babysitter tonight?”

Goro’s nose wrinkles. “We’re not babies,” he protests.

“Well, a kid-sitter then. Just for a few hours.” He rubs his hands over their heads. “She’s friends with Kaoru.”

Akira’s eyes go big and sparkly behind his glasses. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Takuto says. “I’m going to go spend some time with Mune. She’ll even let you guys get pizza for dinner.” Well, he told her he’d pay her extra so she could _get_ them pizza, but he kind of needs them on her side, so.

He startles when Goro climbs into his lap, tiny hands going to hold Takuto by the cheeks as he stares him very clearly in the eyes. “You left us with an old lady that smelled like oatmeal last time. Does this one smell like oatmeal?” he asks gravely.

“No,” Takuto says, through squished cheeks. “Or, she shouldn’t, anyway.”

“Fine!” Goro says, sliding down the couch and reaching up to help pull Akira down too. “She can come.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow, right?” Akira asks sweetly, standing still while Goro tries to pull him back towards their room.

“Of course,” Takuto says, reaching over to ruffle Akira’s hair. “We can go to the park tomorrow, after work.”

Akira’s face breaks into a smile, and he lets himself get pulled along out of the living room.

Takuto sighs, and immediately tips over into the couch cushion to crash for the next hour or so.

\--

“Yoshizawa… san?” Takuto asks, glancing down at the teenage girl at his door. She’s got her hair pulled up in a ponytail, red ribbon hanging from its hold, and she catches sight of Goro tucked up in Takuto’s arm and smiles.

“Yes, sir!” she says brightly. “You’re Maruki, right? Iwai has talked about you before.”

Takuto feels his face flush hot. “O-oh. Yes, that’s me.” Goro shifts in his arms and buries his face in Takuto’s chest, angrily mumbling something about loud girls. “Sorry, we, ah, curled up for a nap before you showed up and this one doesn’t wake up easily.” Well, Takuto curled up for a nap, and woke up with Goro and Akira nestled into his arms. He shakes Goro a bit. “Say hi, Goro.”

“No,” Goro says into his shirt.

Takuto sighs. “This is Goro,” he says, angling his head at his grumbling form. “He’s a… family friend.” He reaches down and ruffles Akira’s equally sleepy head. “This one is mine. Can _you_ say hi, Akira?”

“Hello,” Akira says politely, rubbing at his eyes.

“Hi,” Yoshizawa says gently, leaning down to look at Akira in the eye. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Takuto watches as Akira blinks at her, and then glances up at Maruki. “She’s pretty,” he says, pointing at Yoshizawa. “Is she a princess?”

“Oh!” Yoshizawa says, apparently caught off guard.

“Sure,” Takuto says, nudging Akira forward. He meets Yoshizawa’s eyes. “He and Goro are going through a knight saves the princess phase right now.” He laughs nervously, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I probably let them watch too much TV.”

Yoshizawa’s face breaks out in a delighted smile. “Yes! I’m a princess,” she insists, leaning down to take one of Akira’s little hands. He looks like he’s about to combust. “Your dad called me so I could come play with you guys for a little while!”

Akira blinks big eyes up at him. “You didn’t say she was a _princess_ ,” he breathes.

“Who’s a princess?” Goro asks, sitting up in Takuto’s arms. “Akira’s the princess.”

Akira pouts. “I am not. Look! Dad called a princess to come play with us.”

Goro finally turns around and looks at Yoshizawa, still stooped at Akira’s eye level. “Hello!” she says brightly.

Goro looks between her face and the hand she has in Akira’s, before he shimmies out of Takuto’s arms and bats at her hand until she lets go of Akira. “You don’t smell like oatmeal,” he says plainly. “Akira’s the princess when we play. I get to save him.”

“We take turns!” Akira protests, letting Goro drag him back inside with stomping feet.

“Ah, kids,” Takuto says, by way of explanation. Yoshizawa grins up at him.

“Please enjoy your evening, Maruki-san. I’ll be sure to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Ah, thank you,” Maruki says, stepping past the doorway to let Yoshizawa into the house. He gives her a brief tour, hands her some cash for dinner, and slides into his shoes by the front door. “I’ll be back by eleven at the latest,” he says. “Akira! Goro! Can you come say goodbye?”

Akira runs up and throws himself into Maruki’s arms, before stepping back and grabbing Yoshizawa by the hand. “Come play!” he demands. Goro gives him a less enthusiastic, albeit sweet, hug in turn, and pivots to go follow Yoshizawa and Akira into the living room.

It feels strange, leaving his kids behind, but Takuto steps outside of his door and turns back to lock it, thankful that at least the babysitter this time didn’t look like she was ready to keel over and die at any given moment this time. He trusts Iwai’s judgement.

Speaking of Iwai.

 _Takuto_ : On my way

 _Iwai_ : Took you damn long enough

\--

Takuto knocks on Iwai’s door twice before he smells the burning.

It’s a very subtle, faint thing, but Takuto has two very small children who always want his attention, and he’s caught a meal or two on fire despite his best intentions. This, he feels, is a very familiar smell.

“Mune?” he calls, rapping on the door one more time. Panicked, Takuto reaches out and twists the doorknob, and actually finds it unlocked. “Mune?” He peeks through the door and immediately regrets it.

“Do not come in here,” Iwai growls, bent over his stove.

Takuto swings the door open wider, and coughs as thick smoke pours out of the front door and into the fading afternoon. “Mune,” he coughs again, “please come outside, you’re going to suffocate.”

“I got it!” Iwai snaps. “’s just a grease fire.”

Oh boy. Takuto pulls his shirt up over his nose and ventures inside, snatching an oven mitt off of Iwai’s counter and leaning forward to grab the smokiest looking pan and carry it outside. He also promptly dumps the still smoldering remains of _whatever_ Iwai was cooking over the railing.

“I had it covered,” Iwai huffs behind him.

“I’m sure you did,” Takuto says easily, breezing past Iwai into his kitchen with a kiss to his cheek. “What was that, anyway?”

“Beef,” Iwai says, shutting the door behind him. He sniffs. “For the udon.”

Takuto turns around to tell him that he’s sure it would have come out great if it was a little more undercooked, but he also promptly realizes the _other_ reason he smelled something burning. Iwai has candles lit and spread around the entirety of his apartment, littering his countertops and the small kitchen table, the coffee table in the living room and the end table pushed against the sofa. It gives his whole apartment a warm kind of feeling, bouncing off of Iwai’s light walls and casting shadows onto his floor.

“You did this for me?” Takuto asks, glancing around with wide eyes.

“Don’t get all moony on me, dollface. I just thought it would help take care of some of your stress. Plus,” he adds, sneaking into the kitchen to wrap his arms around Takuto’s waist from behind. “it’s not like I can ever light these with a toddler around.”

“Mune,” Takuto says tearfully, turning around in his hold.

“Oh, quit that,” Iwai says, reaching up to brush a tear away from Takuto’s eyelash. “I fucked up dinner anyway.”

“I mean…” Takuto says gently, glancing off to the side. “I didn’t realize I wanted it so badly until I mentioned it to Yoshizawa-san, but—”

“Anything you want,” Iwai says, with a kiss to the crown of his head.

\--

Iwai orders a pizza and Takuto eats it half curled up on his couch, wedged between Iwai’s legs as some movie plays in the background. They don’t even pay attention to it once they’ve finished eating, Iwai just plays idly with his fingers while Takuto lazes against his chest, happily unfocused on anything.

“Your ink is healing nicely,” Iwai says gently, and Takuto feels him stroke along the small design between two of his fingers.

“I sure hope so,” Takuto says quietly, laughing when Iwai presses a kiss to his knuckle. “I got it almost a year ago.”

“Heh,” Iwai chuckles, moving gentle kisses from Takuto’s fingers to the palm of his hand that make him shiver. “Guess that makes this some kind of anniversary, huh?”

“Probably,” Takuto says gently, shifting where he’s pressed into Iwai’s chest. “Happy one year, though you’ve been terrorizing my buisness for longer than that.”

“I was there first,” Iwai says against the inside of his wrist, mouth soft along Takuto’s pulse point. “Anybody ever tell you how pretty you are?”

Takuto flushes. “I rented the building first, it just took me a while to know it was going to be a flower shop. And, um. No… not explicitly.”

“Shame,” Iwai says, and kisses up his arm, over his shoulder. “You’re a fuckin’ beauty, dollface.”

“Thank you,” Takuto says quietly, tilting his head to the side as Iwai mouths low on his neck.

“What was that shop gonna be again? A therapy something or other?”

“A, um, yeah, a c-counseling… whatever.” He’s finding it hard to talk as Iwai’s hands find his sides, trailing delicately up and down over the fabric of his clothes. Takuto has to clamp his mouth shut on a sound when Iwai bites gently at his neck.

“A counseling whatever?” Iwai laughs. “What, a kiss or two doesn’t have you tongue tied, does it, doctor?”

“M-maybe,” Takuto sighs, tipping his head back on Iwai’s shoulder as his hands skim just under Takuto’s shirt, Iwai’s fingers cold against the hot skin of his stomach. “I thought we were supposed to be relaxing?”

“This not relaxing enough for you?” Iwai asks. He kisses Takuto’s jaw, just behind his ear, the nape of his neck. His fingers are still spread low and possessive on Takuto’s stomach, and it makes Takuto’s heart beat faster, his body starting to react embarrassingly fast. “I can go slower,” he says low, mouth pressed against Takuto’s ear.

“ _Mune_ ,” Takuto says, instead of answering. He puts his hands on Iwai’s knees where they’re bracketing his hips, a solid foothold he needs to hang on to before his head floats away.

“Shh,” Iwai says, pressing his hand further up Takuto’s stomach. “Can I take care of you?”

Takuto nods. Iwai doesn’t do much, just kisses across his shoulders and back, hands trailing up and down Takuto’s skin under his shirt. He glances down and watches as Iwai’s hands move, the dark ink across both of his arms pulling and rippling as he moves.

“I like your tattoos,” Takuto says quietly, reaching down to feel over the soft skin of Iwai’s arms.

“I like yours,” Iwai says, one of the hands on his side moving down to his hip, where he’s hiding a cluster of small, tattooed stars he got to match his college girlfriend. “I wish you’d let me give you more.”

“You know I—ah,” he sighs when Iwai’s hand skates up his chest and plucks gently at his nipple, the rough pad of his thumb skimming over his sensitive skin afterwards. “You know I can’t,” he whispers, afraid raising his voice will break the little bubble Iwai has created and sealed them inside of. “I-if I want to go back to my practice—”

Iwai shushes him again. “I just wanted you to think about it,” he says lowly. “Don’t worry about work right now.”

“Right.”

“What would you get?” he asks, and the first hand joins the second, thumbing gently over Takuto’s hardening nipples. It makes his breath catch in his throat, but Takuto isn’t sure whether he wants to lean into the touch or away from it.

“I don’t know,” Takuto admits quietly. “S-something that, _ah_ , matters to me. Maybe Goro and Akira’s names. Maybe yours.”

Iwai freezes against him and Takuto worries he’s said something wrong, that he’s made some misstep that can’t be corrected, but Iwai just tips his head into the curve of Takuto’s shoulder with a groan. “You’re killing me here, Takuto.” Takuto laughs quietly, patting at Iwai’s thigh soothingly. “Do you know how cute you are?” he asks, hands slipping out of Takuto’s shirt so that he can hold Takuto gently by the face, like he’ll break. “I want to eat you alive, sometimes,” Iwai says, turning Takuto’s jaw to the side.

“Maybe you should,” Takuto says quietly, and catches Iwai’s groan in his mouth. Iwai kisses dirty and intense, and Takuto never feels like he’s prepared for the hot slide of his tongue, the way he takes and takes and takes until Takuto is panting and trembling against him. Iwai just holds him by the jaw and steals all of his breath, pushing back in every time Takuto tries to break away to restabilize his brain.

“I want you,” Takuto pants, reaching up to grab Iwai by the wrist and hold him tighter, to pull him into another blistering kiss. He barely gets the chance, considering Iwai lets him kiss him for a few seconds, and then pats him on the thigh and says, roughly, “Get up.”

Takuto shivers and stands, eyes probably glazed over as he focuses _way_ too much on how scratchy Iwai’s voice gets when it’s low, when it’s right against Takuto’s ear. Iwai extends his hand and Takuto takes it half on impulse, before he’s trailing Iwai down the hallway towards his bedroom.

He lets Iwai pull him forward until his legs hit the bed and yelps when Iwai tugs him into his lap, knees shifting uncertainly at the soft give of his mattress.

“Mune— _nh_.” Takuto’s eyes slide closed when Iwai wraps a hand around his waist, his mouth going back to Takuto’s neck.

“Aren’t you gorgeous,” Iwai says reverently. “Even with those dorky fuckin’ glasses.”

Takuto can only find it in himself to laugh, even when Iwai reaches up and slides them off of his face, a little click echoing around the room when Iwai sits them down on his bedside table. Iwai’s hands go back to his side, pushing his shirt up his stomach until Takuto shivers, unused to the cold when he runs so hot.

“Look at me,” Iwai says gently, and Takuto opens his eyes slowly, glancing down at Iwai’s face. Iwai’s hand slides up his chest and towards his face, pausing to swipe some of his hair out of the way. “There’s my pretty boy.”

His hand slides along Takuto’s cheek gently and it’s all Takuto can do to lean into it, eyes heavy lidded and hazy where he’s gazing at Iwai. “I love when you look at me like that,” Iwai breathes, leaning forward to kiss delicately at Takuto’s jaw.

Iwai manages to get Takuto’s shirt off and thrown off somewhere in the room, and Takuto flushes as Iwai’s eyes rake up his chest, over his soft stomach and down towards the place where his hip bones are jutting out of his pants. “You’re a dream,” Iwai says breathlessly, the arm around Takuto’s waist dragging him forward so Iwai can kiss at his collarbone, the flat planes of his chest.

“You can’t keep… talking like that,” Takuto exhales, scratching his fingers at the base of Iwai’s buzzed hair. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s _true_ ,” Iwai corrects. He pulls at Takuto until he’s sitting in Iwai’s lap instead of just hovering on his knees, and Takuto gasps when the thick line of his cock presses against him. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, dollface.”

“ _Mune_ ,” Takuto whispers, and pulls Iwai’s face up so he can kiss him again. It’s different than before, less heat and more gentle intensity, the intimate slide of Iwai’s mouth against his. Takuto doesn’t get to just have things for himself often, but Iwai feels less like a want than a _need_ , like breathing or sleeping.

Iwai rolls them over gently, pins Takuto to the bed with his huge frame, and it’s all Takuto can do to go, to let Iwai have him. “Come on,” Takuto gasps, gripping at Iwai’s shoulders as he kisses down his body, stopping everywhere Takuto has skin exposed. “I want you, Mune, _please._ ”

“Take it slow,” Iwai says gently, his hand cupping Takuto’s hard cock through his pants. “I want you to fall apart for me.”

He pants as Iwai sits up, shucking his t-shirt off in one graceful move that makes Takuto’s head spin and blood rush to his cock. He wants to put his hand all over Iwai’s body, from the tattoos dripping down his shoulder onto his chest, to the one’s he knows are spread beautifully on his back. Instead, Takuto grips Iwai’s bedsheets and lifts his hips as Iwai eases his pants and underwear off, panting as he’s flushed and naked in Iwai’s sheets.

“Mune,” Takuto says breathlessly, when Iwai’s hand skims over his stomach and down to his leaking cock, all light touches that make Takuto’s hips jerk. He throws an arm over his eyes to hide how embarrassed he’s getting. “Touch me. I-I need you to.”

“I will,” Iwai says patiently, and Takuto feels his hand on Takuto’s thighs, back up towards his chest. “Just, _fuck_ , dollface let me look at ‘ya for a second.” Takuto makes an embarrassing whimper of a noise when Iwai strokes at his cock gently, before his hand is back to roving all over his skin. It’s making him sensitive enough that every touch of Iwai’s skin to his feels like electricity, and Takuto can barely control the embarrassed noises he’s making, like a dying man without water.

“Takuto,” Iwai murmurs, like he just likes the shape of his partner’s name in his mouth. “ _Takuto_.”

Takuto’s hips jerk when Iwai strokes at his cock again, his movements practiced and easy as he thumbs over his slit, pushes precum down and around his head. Takuto makes an embarrassing whining noise, the arm over his eyes pressing tighter.

There’s a breath on his cheek that Takuto turns into slightly. “Move your arm. I want to see your face.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Takuto says. “I can’t.”

Another kiss to his neck, one to the side of his jaw. “I need to see you. I want to see what this does to you.”

“ _Mune_ ,” Takuto whines, but moves his hands anyway, moaning into the kiss Iwai presses his mouth. His hand keeps a steady rhythm on his cock that makes Takuto feel drunk, head swimming as Iwai pets over his tongue and sucks greedily at his bottom lip.

Iwai sits back up with a grin, and Takuto reels at how shiny his lips are, how they’re kissed red and full, and he’s looking at Takuto like he’s the only thing on the planet that matters right now. “Pretty as shit, baby,” he murmurs, and Takuto throws his head back with a whine.

“I’m gonna c-come, Mune, I don’t— _mgh_! If I—i-if I—”

“I’m not done with you,” Iwai says into his ear, and Takuto keens at the rough grate of his voice. “Let me see you come, Takuto.”

Takuto bites down on his lip and comes so hard he can barely breathe, his body shaking and unravelling into oversensitivity as Iwai works him through it, but Takuto can’t ask him to stop, can only hiccup as Iwai keeps stroking his sensitive cock until he’s got nothing left to spend.

Takuto lays motionless against the bed as Iwai kisses him gently, trying to let the hard beating of his heart even out. “Are you tired?” Iwai asks his neck.

“No,” Takuto croaks. “I—please don’t stop, Mune.”

Takuto gets a kiss gently on his mouth and then Iwai’s body heat lifts, the mattress shifting as Iwai reaches for something on his bedside table. “On your knees,” Iwai says gently, reaching out to grab Takuto by the hip and help him onto shaky legs, his body trembling as he leans forwards and buries his face in Iwai’s pillows. They smell just like him, like his aftershave and the shampoo he uses, and Takuto feels like he’s safer than he has been any other day.

He feels Iwai’s hands on his ass, kneading gently, a second before they spread apart, and Takuto jumps as Iwai’s nose nudges at the base of his spine. “W-wait,” Takuto says, a second before his voice cracks into a moan, Iwai’s tongue darting out across his hole. “Mune, you _ngh_ —you can’t j-just—”

“Shh,” Iwai says into his skin, a second before his tongue is sweeping over Takuto’s hole again. It makes his spine feel like fire, toes curling in the sheets as Mune eats him out carefully and practiced, fingers massaging into Takuto’s skin. He can feel the barely there drag of Iwai’s stubble between his thighs and it makes him shake harder.

Takuto is near suffocating in Iwai’s pillows but he can’t _help_ it. He’s making too much noise, moaning loudly every time Iwai slides his tongue in and out of his entrance, and it feels like his whole body is shaking, like he’s trapped under a blanket in a house fire.

“ _Mune_ ,” Takuto groans. “ _Please._ ”

Iwai just spreads his legs apart further and presses his tongue deeper inside, and Takuto _sobs_ , feeling spit drip down his ass and onto Iwai’s bedsheets. He didn’t think this could feel as good as it does but Iwai just keeps going until Takuto is on the edge again, the press of an orgasm insistent but too far away. He could fuck into his fist if he could move his hands, but he also feels like if he lets go of the iron grip he has on Iwai’s blankets, he’s _going to_ melt into Iwai’s sheets.

Mune groans into his hole and Takuto feels his hips twitch back, before Iwai slips a slick finger in besides his tongue and Takuto _cries_ , burying his face as deep in Iwai’s pillows as it can go as he comes with a shout and a hiccupped sob, spilling onto Iwai’s sheets untouched.

“Fuck, dollface,” Iwai says behind him. Even if his mouth isn’t on Takuto anymore his _hands_ still are, and every single nerve in Takuto’s body is reeling and oversensitive.

“ _Munehisa_ ,” Takuto sobs, when Iwai presses his hips down into the blanket. “St-stop, I can’t, mngh…!”

There’s a kiss to the back of his ear, the slant of his shoulder. Iwai just keeps rocking his fingers in and out of Takuto’s hole as he trembles almost violently, bunching up Iwai’s sheets in his fist.

“Can you give me one more, Takuto?” Iwai whispers into his neck. Takuto just moans and drools into his sheets. “I don’t want you thinking about anything but me.”

Takuto tries to say that it’s impossible for him to even begin to think about anything other than Iwai when he’s buried in his smell and shaking apart on his fingers, but all he can do is cry and rasp out a broken, “ _Yes._ ”

Iwai flips him carefully onto his back and Takuto shivers, reaching up to wrap his arms around Iwai’s neck when he leans down to kiss him soft and slow. Takuto whimpers when Iwai slides another finger inside of him.

“Do you need me to stop?” Iwai asks, smoothing Takuto’s hair out of his eyes.

“ _No_ ,” Takuto gasps, finding he’s embarrassingly been rendered to monosyllabic words. He nearly bites off his own tongue when Iwai presses into his prostate, voice coming out hoarse and rough when he shouts.

“God, look at you,” Iwai says reverently. “You’re a fucking dream, Takuto, a _dream_.”

“Fuck me!” Takuto gasps, pulling Iwai’s head against his chest. “I need you, _ngh_! I need you t-to I need you, Mune, _please_.”

“I’m sorry,” Iwai says, with a warm kiss to Takuto’s sweat slicked skin. Even that has him arching off of the comforter, still so turned on. “Yeah, yes, anything you want, Takuto.”

He slides his fingers out and Takuto sighs, loosening his hold on Iwai’s neck as he leans away, just so that he can watch Iwai line himself up with Takuto’s hole through his blurry vision. Iwai presses a kiss to his mouth and Takuto feels his head catch on his rim, and he pulls his teeth between his lips, because he hasn’t forgotten just how _massive_ Iwai’s cock is. It slides into him slow, but it still burns, stretches him full as Iwai rolls his hips so, so slowly.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Iwai rasps against his temple. “I wish you could see this.”

It’s all Takuto can do to whine and hold on, waiting torturously as Iwai slides impossibly deeper and deeper. Eventually, he bottoms out with a groan, and Takuto literally feels exhausted, vaguely like he’s floating out of his body.

“Go slow,” he says softly, turning to bury his face in Iwai’s neck. Iwai braces a hand against his hips and does as asked, rocking slowly in and out of Takuto as he drinks in deep shaking breaths.

Takuto’s life feels like it’s constantly on fast forward, like every day is another job, or responsibility, or mess to clean up. He’s a frayed wire hanging on for dear life but Iwai wraps him in his arms and Takuto sighs, because for once he’s got nowhere else to be.

“Beautiful,” Iwai mumbles, and Takuto flexes his legs, feels his orgasm impending even if it’s not quite overwhelming as it had been before.

 _I love you_ , he thinks hazily, because even fucked out of his mind, he thinks that’s a line for another day’s Takuto to cross.

Iwai slips a hand between their bodies and fists at Takuto’s dripping cock until he’s tensing up and coming with a more of a rough exhale than a real sound, bearing down so tightly on Iwai that Iwai groans and stutters, before he shakes through his own release.

And Takuto keeps holding him, even as their breathing evens out, and Iwai’s weight crushes down on his chest. He kisses Takuto’s temple and then the side of his face, and groans as he rolls them both onto their sides.

“Mune…” Takuto says, and Iwai shushes him with a slow kiss, reaching over his body to fold his blanket in half.

“Relax,” he says, and strokes fingers over Takuto’s loose curls.

 _I love you_ , he thinks, and falls asleep tucked into Iwai’s hold.

\--

“Dollface,” Iwai says gently. “Wake up.”

Takuto blinks open sleep heavy eyes to look up at Iwai, face lit gently by the lamp he must have turned on.

“Wha’ time is it?” he says groggily, leaning forward to snuggle into Iwai’s side.

Iwai chuckles. “It’s about ten. You told Yoshizawa you’d be back at eleven right?”

Oh shit. Right. Takuto is a father.

He groans and presses further into Iwai’s side. “I did. Why did I do that?”

“Because you love your little shits,” Iwai says, with a kiss to his temple. “Do you want me to drive you home?“

Takuto shakes his head, and then stops. “Actually… if you don’t mind…”

“I never mind,” Iwai says gruffly. He swats Takuto on the hip and laughs when he yelps, trying to blink sleep out of his eyes. “Come on, then. Get dressed.”

Takuto grumbles but gets up shakily, throwing a glare over his shoulder at Iwai when he starts to tremble on his feet. He pulls his clothes on and steals another slice of pizza from the box in the kitchen before following Iwai out to his car.

Iwai presses his hand against Takuto’s forehead as he settles in the passenger seat. “Get some rest,” he grunts. “I’ll wake you up when you’re home.”

Takuto catches his hand and kisses his palm, laughing when Iwai’s face turns bright red. “Who was just calling me _beautiful_ again, sir?”

“Shaddup,” Iwai grunts, and pulls his hand away from Takuto’s mouth. “You’re a menace.”

Takuto doesn’t actually sleep as Iwai drives, electing instead to watch him lean back in his seat and drive with one, steady hand. He wants to lean over and kiss him again, but he settles for watching Iwai’s face turn colors at stoplights and laughing whenever he snaps at other drivers on the road.

“Thank you,” Takuto says, when Iwai pulls up outside of his apartment complex. He leans over and pulls Iwai into a soft, explorative kiss, and then presses his forehead to Iwai’s with a sigh. “I wish we could do this more often.”

Iwai shrugs. “We’re busy, it happens. Maybe…”

He watches Iwai glance off to the side, and tips his head. “Maybe?”

Iwai presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Come by the shop at lunch.”

“I will,” Takuto says softly, sliding from his seat through the open door. “I…”

“Yeah?”

 _I love you._ “Goodnight,” Takuto says with a smile.

“Night, dollface.” Iwai says back.

Takuto climbs the stairs to his apartment feeling warm and light, now that he’s slept more than two hours in one day. He knocks on his own door, and hears the quiet _Coming!_ A second before the door sweeps open and Yoshizawa starts, “How can I—oh! Maruki!”

“I’m back,” Maruki laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Things go okay?”

“They went great!” Yoshizawa says with a smile, stepping back to let Takuto through the door. “Akira is a little angel.”

“And Goro?” Takuto asks.

Yoshizawa’s smile tightens a bit. “I like to think I’m very good with kids,” she says brightly. “He was nothing I couldn’t handle!”

Takuto sighs in relief. “That’s good. Thanks, Yoshizawa. Do you need to hang out before your sister picks you up?”

“Oh, no!” Yoshizawa says. “She’s just down the street. Thank you, though!”

“No problem,” Takuto says, reaching over to fish some money out of his wallet. “Thanks for coming on short notice. I’m sure they loved you.”

Yoshizawa takes the money with a smile, bounding out of the front door. “Goodnight, Maruki!” she calls. Takuto waves and shuts the door with a sigh.

His house is quiet. It seems Yoshizawa somehow managed to get Goro and Akira to sleep.

Takuto slips down to hallway towards their room, and smiles at their closed door, before he slowly pushes the door to his own room open with a sigh.

“Dad?”

Takuto jumps and then settles with his hand against his doorframe, laughing quietly as Akira sits up with a yawn. Seems like he and Goro swindled Yoshizawa into putting them to bed in his room.

“Hi, Akira,” he says softly, moving towards the edge of his bed. “Why aren’t you guys in your own beds?”

“We wanted to see you when you came back,” Akira says sleepily, shaking Goro where he’s curled into Akira’s side. “Goro. _Goro_. Wake up.”

Goro makes a noise that sounds unhappy, and then one that sound suspiciously like a sneeze, before he sits up and rubs at his eyes. “Where were you?” he asks sourly.

Takuto climbs into bed next to them, smiling when Akira scooches over to make him some room. “I went to Iwai’s, remember?”

“Was Kaoru there?” Akira asks excitedly, climbing onto Takuto’s chest as he lays down.

“Nope, just Iwai.” Takuto says gently, bringing a hand up to rest at the small of Akira’s back. Goro tucks into his side just under his arm, and hums when Takuto strokes at his hair.

“Did you have fun?” Goro asks quietly, burying his tiny nose into Takuto’s side. Takuto moves his hand from Akira’s back to reach down the bed and pull up a spare blanket, making sure he doesn’t cover Goro’s head with it.

“I did,” Takuto says quietly. He laughs quietly. “I’m glad you two like Kaoru so much. It would be sad if you didn’t get along when Iwai and I like each other so much.”

“We like you too!” Akira insists, snuggling closer.

“Yeah,” Goro agrees, and adds quietly, “Even if you’re old.”

Takuto snorts. “Go to sleep. And quit calling me old.”

“Goodnight,” Akira says sleepily.

“Goodnight,” Goro yawns.

Takuto stares at the ceiling while their breathing evens out, until his eyes slide blissfully closed.

 _Goodnight_ , he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Pog!
> 
> I've got another longass Maruki/Iwai fic to post later this week that I've deadass been working on since like... Deptember so yeehaw!! If you wanna say hi I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) and uhhh yeah!


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